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Life Is Grand

from Supercommuter by Supercommuter

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I’m carrying weight. Check it out, upgrades look great.
Hatches fused. 25% unused.
Progress Improved from a crawl.
Voco-patch now fully installed.
Complicated system with a calibrated fuse box
who’s got animated yes yes y’alls?
Bots see me stomping down the street.
They stop dead cold, cop the hot physique. See
every step is a gift to me. Radiate magnetic electricity.
Left foot goes down, left foot comes up weighing just a little bit heavier.
Right foot goes down, right foot comes up moving just a little bit steadier.
Everywhere I go, I take a piece.
Molecules move, see the mass increase.
I get big, and I take bigger pieces.
It’s slow, but it’s steady and it keeps its shape
when it flies through the sky to me.
Then fully integrated into chemistry.
Now let’s see… first, started with the quarks.
Get much smaller, then nothing really works.
And even down there, it’s exponential.
1, 2, 4, 16, 256, 65,536. Follow formula, see the mass potential.
Indicators say that the weight is well within planned parameters.
I guess it’s safe so I’ll keep taking, pushing with perpetual stamina.

I’m carrying weight, I’m burying slate. Pedometer ticking.
Every move I make, feel it tremble and shake, and the stuff is sticking.
And you can see that it’s bigger now.
Everywhere I go, dust swirling around.
Trust me, it must be heavy because I look back, see cracks in the ground.
Completely visible. People believe what they see, get a little bit critical.
They can make their speeches.
Give me a week and their reach is impotent and pitiful.
Soon move to paper scraps.
Screws and nuts and protein wraps.
And if you want to keep it, you can take a grip and run quick
but it won’t last.
I’m a slave to the law of attraction.
Indisputable in every interaction.
Irrefutable forces making a course that’s directed to getting matter packed in.
Consider that I got no upper limit.
Think about the rubble getting bigger every minute.
Try to get near me, then formulate a theory,
but don’t forget the fact that this is only the beginning.

Birds, bottles, wrenches, goggles,
security cameras, digital fliers, hover pads, loose wires,
rain water, Irish setters, human children, baggy sweaters,
landscaping, shopping bags, street signs, beggars’ rags,
office windows, cumulous clouds, commuter tubing, discarded couch,
robots, people, ships, doors, gears, belts, glass, floors,
cannons, rockets, bullets, troops, trees, buildings, bridges, nukes.

Now I’m moving.
Size of a city, look I’m improving.
See sky scrapers flying to me,
and then you’ll get the type of bot that I’m trying to be.
It’s easy. Now I’m blowing out of shape.
Taking whole blocks and trees and lakes and
infrastructure, you can see the sparks
break loose, uproot even National Parks.
They didn’t know that I’d grow and attract.
Showed those signs, and they couldn’t turn back.
People got evacuated, but the fact they waited
made them late and slow to react.
And now I’m bigger than continent.
*Slurp* Ocean, no stopping it.
One path, one law, one bot that began it.
One conclusion, fuse to the planet.


from Supercommuter, released July 21, 2009


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Stenobot composes beats on a Game Boy. Wheelie Cyberman adds words. Tron Juan puts it all together.

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